


Bad Kitty

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Bottom Louis, Explicit Sexual Content, Harry is Darcy sort of, Hybrid Louis, Kitten Louis, M/M, Oral Sex, Smut, Top Harry, kitten!Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 06:39:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5446862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is a kitten hybrid who rooms with Liam and hates Harry Styles. Until he doesn’t. A little bit Pride and Prejudice set in college in New York City.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Kitty

**Author's Note:**

> **This work would not exist without this[drabble by whoknows](http://crazyupsetter.tumblr.com/post/134621125480/for-some-reason-i-just-really-wanna-see-you-write). Go read it first.**
> 
> This whole thing is [James Corden's fault](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dgvoGWf6sGs).

The game ended 45 minutes ago and Liam left but Harry couldn't bring himself to move. One hand stroked the kitten's belly idly as it had since Harry pulled him into his lap hours ago now. Harry had realized Louis was sleeping when he felt him (more than heard him) start to purr. 

Since they met, Harry can’t stop thinking about the curvy kitten that lives with his good friend Liam. Louis has these captivating blue eyes, a finely-tuned rapier wit, and curves that Harry has tried to forget. But kittens don't want what comes easy so Harry has always ignored him. Antagonized him over beer. All the while pretending that he hasn’t been cataloging the sway of his hips and changes in his eyes.

So when Louis stood before him in a rage over being manhandled and called a bad kitty, Harry couldn’t help but cuddle him. Now Harry knows things he didn't know before: Louis' hair smells of sweet cream, he fits perfectly in Harry's lap, but mostly--and most importantly--he purrs. 

It’s possible that when Harry met Louis for the first time that he did research about kitten hybrids to supplement his own anecdotal knowledge. In all his internet wanderings, he found that a kitten will only purr as a sign of pure contentment. They have to feel 100% safe and protected. And a kitten will almost never let it’s guard down. So, Louis asleep in Harry’s lap purring makes him never want to move.

However, he did promise his kitten a treat, and he’s been so good. 

He begins by scratching Louis’ belly. He’s been just petting for the past however many hours now, never stopped, couldn’t really stop, if he’s being honest with himself. But now his movements are a little different. He’s also nuzzling the top of Louis head, peppering kisses in his hair and over his pointed ears.

Harry knows the second Louis wakes: he stops purring, he starts just a bit, but then he stretches. Like the cat he is, he elongates his spine, points his toes and raises his arms above his head. Somehow, he manages to stay in Harry’s lap although by the laws of physics that shouldn’t have been possible. Perhaps the universe is on Harry’s side. Because he doesn’t want to let his kitten go.

Post-stretch Harry still has his arms around Louis who is now just blinking up at him. Harry can read the conflict on his face. Does he flee or cuddle? Louis is clearly torn. So Harry just holds him and nuzzles the side of his face, whispering in his ear, “You’ve been very good. Would you like your treat now?”

Louis can’t stop the shudder that goes through him at Harry’s words. He saw red when Harry grabbed him and called him a bad kitty. Was in fact ready to claw Harry’s eyes out. Then he wound up in his lap, where he’s been comfortably napping for what must be a couple of hours. The TV is playing some post-game analysis but quietly. Where the fuck is Liam? When did he leave? Louis hasn’t been sleeping well. But Harry rubs his belly and holds him in his lap and he’s out. He knows he was purring. Knows there’s not another human who’s ever heard him purr like that. It’s not surprising then, that he’s doing some swift re-evaluation of the curly haired nuisance. He finds strong arms and caring eyes, and then Harry nuzzles him. Like another cat. He’s made a decision in a matter of seconds, he’s impulsive, who cares? He’s decided that this feeling is lovely. That when he woke from his cat nap, ha, he felt safe and cared for and he likes it. He can’t remember ever feeling this way. Harry can stay.

So at Harry’s words, Louis nuzzles him back. Louis pulls back a little and looks, really looks, at Harry’s face. God he’s pretty. He puts one hand at the nape of Harry’s neck and cards his fingers through the smallest curls there, tugging softly. He places his other hand on Harry’s (impressively chiseled) jaw and brushes his thumb across his cheekbone. He’s pretty sure he looks like a creep. But Harry’s eyes are so bright, he swears they’re sparkling. He can’t help but stare, with one hand in Harry’s hair and the other holding his face, while he gets lost in a memory.

\--

_almost a year ago - fall_  
Louis isn’t happy. He has to study, and Liam has decided to make new friends. He’s not sure why. Louis is enough friend for anyone, no? Liam met this kid at the gym and they both like the Green Bay fucking Packers. So first, Louis is annoyed that Liam thinks he needs more friends to begin with. Then, he’s never been one for football. He gets the appeal of ripped men in tight pants but he likes soccer better. He plays for the school team and watches the Premier League even though they’re in the states. He blames a young David Beckham really. And his name is Harry. Harry Styles, Liam informs him. There’s a Styles building on campus. So, he likes football (strike 1), he has to be stuck up coming from name-a-building type money (strike 2), and he boxes with Liam (strike 3). Louis hasn’t even met the kid and already he dislikes him. 

Louis is in his room pouting when he hears the door slam shut. There’s not as much resistance on it as there should be so it shakes the whole damn apartment when it closes most of the time. He hears someone enter and the sound of bottles clinking together in the fridge. When the conversation moves to the living room, he thinks it’s safe to sneak to the kitchen. As he moves out of his room, a curly head turns his way and Louis locks eyes with Harry Styles for the first time. He looks like he walked out of the Green Bay Packers gift shop with his green and yellow hat and the hoodie emblazoned with the logo. Liam is almost as bad. How did Liam find the only other Packers fan in New York City? This day is going to be unbearable. Liam realizes that the two of them are looking at each other but haven’t been introduced, “Harry, this is Louis, my best friend and roommate. Louis, meet Harry, my sparring partner. He was raised here but loves the Packers, isn’t that great?”

“Great.” Louis can’t keep his eyes from rolling or the dismissive tone in his voice.

Harry just nods his head at Louis. He doesn’t even say nice to meet you. Just a nod. Louis turns on his heel and leaves the room. He doesn’t like football and certainly doesn’t like Harry. If he decides to Google everything he can about Harry Styles it’s only because he wants to make sure his best friend isn’t being scammed.

\--

He’s still staring, and Harry is gazing back with a small smile. He hasn’t stopped petting Louis. Not rushing. Like he could stay here, staring like a lover (or maybe a creep) forever. Louis is done staring though. He isn’t a patient kitty and doesn’t want to deny the heat pooling in his tummy anymore. His eyes bounce between brilliant green eyes and cherry red lips (do they taste like cherry?). He inches closer, longing to know the answer. When their lips meet it’s like they’ve come home. They’re not in a rush, they have nowhere to be. It’s a lazy Sunday afternoon and they have unlimited time to explore each other for the first time. Louis has shifted from his sideways position in Harry’s lap to straddling him completely. Harry’s hands gravitate to Louis’ ass and he pulls the kitten to him. Louis has never really loved feeling small, but the way Harry’s hands cover so much of his ass and back, moving up and down restlessly, is intoxicating. 

Their cocks line up and Harry moans, deep in his throat, like it’s been dragged from him. Louis knows it's the sweetest sound he's ever heard and takes the opportunity to lick into Harry's mouth. Louis has had his fair share of great kisses but this boy with his bright eyes and big hands and sinful lips is shaping up to be the best yet. He kisses like he has nothing else to do for the rest of his life. Louis is already hard as nails and they're just rutting together on the couch like teenagers.

Louis pulls back just far enough to breathe into Harry’s lips, “Are you my treat?” He moves to the space just below Harry’s ear and nips. He soothes the small bite with his tongue and Harry whimpers. 

“Is that what you want, my pretty kitty?” Harry asks in a strained murmur.

Louis sucks on the same spot he’s been worrying with his teeth and lets out a soft purr. Harry puts his hands under Louis ass and stands, holding Louis like he weighs nothing. Louis is so down for a change of venue. The couch is great, but they’re not teenagers and dammit, he was promised a treat.

Harry’s been Liam’s friend for almost a year and has come over at least once a week for the length of their friendship. Harry is well acquainted with their apartment so he doesn’t ask Louis where the bedroom is, or stumble looking. He moves with purpose, carrying the kitten in his arms straight into Louis’ bedroom. Louis is still mouthing at Harry’s neck when he’s tossed on the bed with a bounce. For a split second his response annoyance at the indignity then he meets Harry’s gaze. Harry is prowling towards Louis on the bed as though he were the cat. But Harry’s not a kitten; he’s a panther or leopard or lynx. It’s the hottest thing Louis has ever seen. His legs spread and he opens his arms for Harry.

Harry crawls up Louis’ body and nuzzles his face into Louis’ belly where his shirt has ridden up. He’s placing small kisses and nips all along his caramel midriff. He’s leaving love bites in his wake as he noses up Louis’ chest. Louis makes quick work of taking his shirt off and Harry is looking at him like he’s precious, but also like he wants to fuck him until Louis can’t walk. He’s not complaining about either, really. As he nuzzles and nips Louis’ neck, Harry’s hand scratches his belly down to his sweatpants. He slides his hand below the elastic and just teases. Louis’ cock has been tenting his pants since they started making out on the couch. He growls, his hips surge, and Harry’s hand is touching Louis right where he wants him. 

Harry pets just the head first and Louis feels like he’s going to explode. “Don’t tease,” he pleads and Harry is obviously surprised at how wrecked his own voice sounds already. He takes pity on the kitten boy and wraps a firm hand around his throbbing dick. Louis almost comes on the spot but bites his lip and doesn’t. Harry’s hand moves in a languid rhythm, much slower than Louis uses on himself. But it’s almost perfectly in sync with the way Harry is sucking on Louis’ neck. The combination has him panting, arching his back, and moaning a combination of Harry, God, and not gonna last.

Harry pulls back from his spot on Louis’ neck, looks him in the eye, thumbs over the head of Louis’ cock, and says, “Come for me kitten.” And Louis just does. Shooting thick ribbons over Harry’s hand and on to both their chests. Harry hasn’t even taken any of his clothes off. Louis just blinks up at him from under long lashes trying to regulate his breathing. Harry takes his shirt off, uses it to wipe the cum off of Louis’ torso and then perches on one elbow on his side, staring again. Louis reaches up to brush his thumb along Harry’s cheekbone. Harry’s hand is drawing lazy patterns on Louis’ belly.

They stay that way for a few minutes uncertain of what to say. Harry has antagonized Louis for almost a year, and Louis has never thought of him as anything more than Liam’s annoying (and somewhat full of himself) friend. But today, Louis felt like he belonged. Like he was safe. And then he came on command from a hand job and some kissing. He’d really see what the rest looks like with Harry.

\--

_almost a year ago - fall_  
Harry met Liam at the NYU gym. They both like boxing and struck up an easy conversation one day when they were both wearing Packers shirts. They’ve been sparring partners since. Liam talks about his best friend Louis all the time. He knows Louis is a kitten hybrid studying music business with Liam. Knows their dream is to have a record label together. He knows that while Liam comes from money, Louis got a full scholarship because he’s so talented. Harry is naturally excited to meet Louis for the first time.  
When they lock eyes across the room, Harry is struck by how blue the kitten’s eyes are and then by the curve of his behind. He barely registers Liam introducing them but doesn’t miss Louis’ eye roll. His sister’s best friend growing up was a kitten hybrid, so he knows some things. He knows kittens make snap judgments and he’s just been found wanting. He’s dumbstruck. He’s about to say something when Louis turns and walks away. So much for a good first impression. 

\--

Louis is tucked in to Harry’s side, as Harry traces a lazy arc up and down his back. They’ve been circling each other for a year and Louis feels like something clicked into place today. He’s been restless and now he’s calm. Louis speaks softly into Harry’s chest, “When you came over the first time, you nodded at me, didn’t even say nice to meet you.”

“I literally couldn’t speak, I thought you were so lovely. By the time I caught my breath, you’d rolled your eyes at me and decided I was a shit. But I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” Harry confesses. 

Louis looks very smug.

“Now that I think about it,” Harry says slowly, like he’s just discovering this himself, “does that mean you couldn’t stop thinking about me either?”

Louis goes from smug to something else entirely. It’s fear and discovery and realization all at the same moment.

“That’s a yes then,” Harry says, and leans back in to kiss him again. He never wants to stop kissing Louis, now that he’s discovered just how perfect it is.

\--

_9 months ago - winter_  
He’s in Louis’ living room, again. He’s been watching the fucking Green Bay Packers play football every week with Liam for three months. Louis should really go elsewhere. Niall is at the bar and Louis should go there instead of prowling around the apartment glaring at Harry Fucking Styles. Sometimes he thinks about a monogram for towels or shirts that says HFS. Harry says stupid things. Talks about poetry with Liam. Liam doesn’t like the kind of poetry you’d find in books. Not normally, but Liam and Harry have started talking about song lyrics and how it’s really just poetry set to music. So now they have three things. They box together. They watch Aaron Rodgers in tight pants together. And now they talk about SONG LYRICS together. Liam is Louis’ best friend. They work on most of their music side by side. Why would he talk to Harry about song lyrics when he could talk to Louis? Harry is working on a degree in individualized study and his focus is Poetry in Revolt. Essentially, Louis understands, it’s how people use their words to subvert a dominant narrative. Louis thinks of a lot of rap music and has to agree, but he WILL NOT give Harry the satisfaction of joining in the conversation. What does he know about struggle? The building they go to class in is called the Styles Building. 

Louis’ feet start landing louder on the ground. He’s agitated and he’s really not sure why. He can hear them talking. Part of him wants to join in, but he doesn’t want to. But he can’t leave. What if Harry says something dumb and he’s not there to hear it? So he sits in the window of the living room, sun shining on his face, researching on his phone pretending not to pay attention. 

He’s looking up lyrics to current rap songs. And he’s Googling Harry Styles again. This time he finds a story about how his family is a large donor to [charity:water](https://www.charitywater.org/whywater/) but Harry wanted to actually visit the communities they serve. So Harry went when they put in the well in Uganda to bring clean water to a whole town. There are pictures and stories of him digging wells, holding small children, and sitting at the feet of people who look like elders. He’s a privileged kid, who’s never had to struggle, but he seems to be trying to change the world. This doesn’t change anything, Louis still doesn’t like him.

\--

“Don’t want you to stop thinking about me,” Harry admits while claiming Louis’ mouth in a searing kiss. Immediately, they’re back on the edge they’ve been toying with all night. Louis pulls back, smirks, and begins moving down Harry’s torso. He kisses each of the swallows on Harry’s chest, and nips at the each butterfly wing. He sucks angry bruises into both laurels adorning Harry’s hip bones. Harry is writhing beneath him before Louis can rid him of his pants. When Harry’s cock springs free, Louis just stares for a minute. It’s big, but not obscene. Perfect, in his estimation. He licks his lips and Harry whimpers. He licks up the underside and pre-cum blurts out landing on Louis’ nose. They share a small giggle as Louis swipes the cum from his nose with his thumb bringing it to his lips and licking it off. Harry isn’t sure he’s ever seen anything hotter.

“God you’re beautiful. I’ve dreamed of this. Never this good.”

At that, Louis takes Harry all the way down. Kittens don’t have a gag reflex. Handy that. Harry loses all power of speech, just moans loud and low in the back of his throat. He almost can’t breathe as Louis moves up and down his shaft with his hot, slick mouth. When he gets all the way down again, he swallows around the impressive length. 

“Gah, Louis, I’m gonna, ah…” Harry tries to make Louis move, but he won't, determined to stay. But then Louis starts purring and the sensation is nothing like he’s ever felt, Harry comes with a shout. Louis pulls off with an endearingly smug face, and moves back to nuzzle into Harry’s neck. 

“Keep that up and I’ll never leave,” Harry says only half joking.

\--

_6 months ago - spring_  
It’s spring, so Harry and Liam don’t have football to watch together. But somehow, Harry always winds up at Liam and Louis’ flat on Sundays. Sometimes Harry and Liam just hang out, sometimes they watch movies, sometimes they watch whatever sport is on. Harry really likes talking about poetry and lyrics with Liam. Every time he’s over, Louis is there. Without fail. He circles Harry sometimes. Waits for him to trip over his words, or his feet, and always gets a barb in. Harry knows kitten hybrids are tactile people. He knows they have a tendency to mark their territory. So it doesn’t surprise him when Liam and Harry walk in together and Louis gives him a hug nuzzling his cheek. Liam pets Louis head and scratches behind his ears. Harry’s not confused at all. Louis is making it clear, Liam is his. And Harry should tread lightly. 

\--

Louis is laying on Harry’s chest, content. Harry holding him tightly to his chest. He’s a little afraid that if he doesn’t hold on this whole day will turn out to be a dream. They’re not talking, just enjoying the feeling of each other. 

\--

_3 months ago - summer_  
The end of the semester came and went, and now it’s summer in New York City. There aren’t classes in the summer but Louis has started an internship at a recording studio. He’s mostly getting coffee and falafel for his bosses, but sometimes he gets to bring it to them in an actual studio so he sees that as a win. Liam stayed too. Since they got their shared apartment the summer after freshman year, they never left. Harry is off, like he normally is during the summer, working in a refugee camp this year. Louis hasn’t seen him in almost a month and knows he won’t be back until classes start again. He’s glad to be the only one Liam talks song lyrics with again. They actually do a lot of writing and even sneak into the recording studio, since Louis is mischievous and had an extra key made. 

But Louis feels a little off, like something is missing. He doesn’t miss Harry Fucking Styles with his eyes and his hair and his FACE and his bleeding heart. So what if he has a google alert set up. So what if Harry is an internationally known rich kid doing relief work with refugees. People take pictures and write stories. Harry’s tumblr has stupid artistic photos mixed with quotes and stories of the people he’s meeting. Louis reads them all. 

\--

Harry sits up on the bed, back against the headboard and pulls Louis with him. What can he say? He likes the kitten to be in his lap. Harry’s desire to mark Louis is almost too much to handle. He tastes the spot where Louis’ neck meets his shoulder and sighs, “I could taste you forever,” he admits carelessly. And then he starts nipping, sucking, and soothing the same mark over and over. Louis is panting and squirming in Harry’s lap, not really able to form words. That spot is one of his favorites. Harry seems to know all of his preferences without asking, and really without the error part of trial and error. Louis doesn’t usually like to have any outward reminder of anyone else on his skin, but right now, he likes this idea a lot. Plus, earlier, he marked Harry up pretty good. He started by just carding his hands through the other boy’s hair, but now he’s using the curls like reins. He is scratching Harry’s scalp, pulling his hair, holding his head to his neck because he’s not sure he wants this to end. 

\--

_last week_  
When Harry’s head gets too loud, he goes to Grand Central. He stands on the West Balcony and watches thousands of people go about their daily lives a half a story below. He finds it soothing. Sometimes he takes pictures, sometimes he just gets lost in the white noise. He’s lost in an absence of thought when he feels a nudge to his shoulder. A lifelong New Yorker, he doesn’t immediately look up, but then he breathes and he knows who’s next to him. There is just the faintest smell of sweet cream and when he turns his face, he sees a smiling Louis. 

“I thought I was the only one who came here just to watch,” Louis admits.

“My sister brought me here when I was 14 and had trouble getting out of my own head. I’ve been coming here since,” Harry responds.

“I feel glamorous when I come here, like I’m connected to a different time,” Louis says. “Did you know they wanted to tear it down?” 

Harry laughs and finishes Louis’ sentence before he can even stop himself. “But Jackie O wouldn’t let them! Can you imagine having that kind of influence?”

“Everyone listening to me, as they should? Brilliant,” Louis observes with a hint of regret on his face.

Harry wishes that Louis had that kind of influence too. Of course if he did, then everyone might hate Harry, and Harry would lose those lovely, peaceful Sundays and he’d probably lose Louis.

“The world would be a better place,” Harry admits, even though he knows what he’d be giving up in that scenario. Even now, it doesn’t even feel as if he has something to lose.

Louis glances up at him and there’s wonder in those sharp blue eyes, and surprise too. Harry doesn’t know what he’s said, but Louis drifts closer, almost as if he can’t help it. Like he’s drawn to Harry--and there’s a similar tug in his own midsection. Even though they’ve spent most of the last year sniping at each other, suddenly the shy, speculative glances Harry knows he’s sending Louis’ way are miraculously mirrored back to him. He doesn’t understand it, can’t even comprehend of how Louis’ feelings changed, but he feels a flood of happy relief anyway. He is just about to sway closer, wondering if maybe he’s allowed to brush a strand of golden brown hair that’s nearly about to fall over Louis’ eye when he’s jostled from behind and it breaks the moment. Really, it nearly breaks Harry.

Harry half-expects Louis to run then, spooked from the moment they’ve just shared, but he stays and they stand looking out over a sea of anonymous faces just sharing stories about New York and Jackie O and Grand Central. Harry thinks it’s nice. To actually talk to Louis. He hopes, maybe they can do it some more.

\--

Louis has to yank on Harry’s curls to get him to detach from his neck. He’s certain there will be an impressive bruise there, and he’s a little proud of Harry’s commitment. But this night isn’t over and he wants more from Harry. Harry looks at him, a bit dazed, as he seals their lips together. The heat between them is intense and they can’t seem to get close enough. 

“Harry, lube, condom, top drawer, now,” Louis gasps, impressed he can get that many coherent words out around Harry’s expert tongue. Harry fumbles around trying desperately not to stop kissing Louis. He finds what he’s looking for, most likely because Louis keeps what he needs closest to the bed in the drawer without much else. Louis hears the snick of the lube bottle opening, and Harry confirms, “are you sure?”

“Harry, if you don’t fuck me soon, I’m kicking you out and never speaking to you again!” Harry giggles at that, he can’t help it, he nuzzles Louis’ cheek a little, and says, “What my kitten wants, he gets.”

With that, Harry guides one lube slicked finger to Louis’ hole and nudges gently. It’s easy for Louis to start to ride Harry’s finger from his position in his lap. It takes no time to work one long finger in, but it’s not enough. Harry can feel Louis getting restless and adds another finger. He’s crooking them now and when he finds Louis’ prostate his leg kicks out and he bites the top of Harry’s shoulder hard, smothering what would have been a porn-worthy moan. Louis just chants, more more more as Harry scissors his fingers in and out. He adds a third finger and knows that it won’t be enough prep for Louis to take him without a little pain. But Harry is also quickly learning that that’s Louis’ preference. Louis bites at his shoulder again, and Harry can’t stop his own moan, when Louis breathes out, “Now. In me, now.”

“I wanted to prep you some more, it might hurt,” Harry admits, he really doesn’t want to surprise Louis.

“I like it,” Louis confirms Harry’s suspicions and there’s nothing stopping him. Harry tips Louis backwards, so he’s laying on the bed and not in his lap. Louis riding Harry has featured in many of his dreams, but now is not the time. Harry rolls on the condom, and lubes his cock in a practiced move that Louis doesn’t want to think about. He doesn’t want to think about Harry with other people. And he doesn’t really want to examine that feeling either. They lock eyes, and they can see wanton lust but also awe and tenderness reflected in each other’s eyes. Louis reaches down to guide Harry to his waiting hole. Harry is not small, so the stretch is real, but Louis is so hot and so turned on that the mix of pleasure and pain is stunning. Harry is moving painfully slowly, gauging Louis’ reaction with every movement. 

When he’s fully seated, Louis pulls him in for a tender kiss. He whispers, “I’m not going to break, move,” and nips at Harry’s bottom lip. Now that he’s been given the go ahead, Harry thrusts hard and deep, nailing Louis’ prostate every time. Louis is scratching up and down Harry’s back and making incoherent sounds of pleasure. Harry can feel Louis moving towards his peak so he picks up his pace, on a particularly well place thrust, Harry bites down on the juncture of Louis’ neck and shoulder and Louis comes, untouched, with a moan. Harry follows him after one more thrust and then collapses sort of on and sort of to the side of Louis, careful not to crush him but he doesn’t want to go far either. He pulls out gently, ties off the condom, and drops it into the trash near the bed. He caresses Louis’ cheek and drops a chaste kiss to his lips. Louis moves just slightly to grab the wipes from his top drawer and clean them both up. He learned long ago that the naked trip to the bathroom he shares with Liam can kill any mood. Harry pulls the blanket up over both of them and pulls Louis into his side. 

Louis looks up from under hooded eyelashes, hesitant to ask, but he really wants to know, “when did you know?”

“Know that I wanted you? Know that you were meant to be mine?” Harry knows the level of possession is a bit much for the moment, but he just can’t help it. 

“Yeah,” Louis breathes out not really knowing how to follow that up.

“Honestly, I was in the middle before I knew it happened. You acted like you wanted nothing to do with me, so I wanted to prove myself. Prove that I wasn’t the shit you thought I was. But it wasn’t a conscious effort. Plus, Liam is really the only other Packers fan I know. We are in New York City after all.” Harry admits all of this without hesitance. Then he asks, “why didn’t you just plan to be elsewhere when I came over? I know you don’t like football.”

“You got under my skin. I thought about leaving, but then I couldn’t. Wanted to listen to you and Liam talk about whatever. It doesn’t even make sense really,” Louis bashfully admits.

“After I saw you at Grand Central, it made a bit more sense. I knew, if I got the chance, I’d have to take it. And you just had to fuck with my stuff, couldn’t leave well enough alone. Then you were SO mad (and hot, by the way), I knew I had to cuddle you.”

And Louis knows, he wants everything with this curly haired boy. And, not one to be denied, he says, “I think we’ve done more than cuddle at this point, but I want everything.” 

\--

When Liam comes home he sees that Harry’s things are still in the living room. He can hear hushed voices coming from Louis’ room. He watched them circle each other for a year and knew it would end up this way eventually.


End file.
